by Nell Dixon
“My own private pity-fest.” She scooped Min up to sit beside her as she snuggled up under her fleece. She tried to lose herself in the film, which had always been a tried and trusted remedy for past heartbreak. This time, it appeared to have lost some of its magic.
The sound of her doorbell intruded. Min jumped down and stretched, ready to trot into the hall. Nathalie peeped through the slats of the wooden blinds at her front window. The water splashes on the glass blurred her view, but her pulse quickened as she made out the soaked figure on her front step.
Evan spotted her movement of the blind, and his eyes met hers. She froze for a second, her pulse pounding in her ears. In the light from the porch, she noticed his hair had been darkened and plastered to his head by the sleet as he waited for her to open the door.
Nathalie dropped the blinds and hurried into the hall. She didn’t know what to say, what to expect. Her fingers shook as she slipped the security chain free to open the door. The light from the hall spilled out to where Evan stood on the front step. Nathalie was suddenly conscious of how she must look.
“Do you think I might come in?” He made a slight gesture with his open hands at the sleet that pounded the ground around him like silver bullets.
She stood aside, and he stepped into the hall. Water ran from his jacket in rivulets onto the laminate floor. A white layer of melting slush lay along the lines of his shoulders.
“I had to come and see you.”
The sound of the water dripping galvanized her into action “You’re wet. Let me take your coat. Go through and dry off by the fire.” As she fetched him a towel, she rubbed her palms against the legs of her pyjamas, wiping off sweat and melted sleet.
“Thank you.” His fingers brushed hers as he took the towel, and heat scorched her skin at the brief contact.
“I didn’t expect to see you again. You hung up.” Nathalie held her breath as she waited for his reply.
“I didn’t hang up. I was on my way here and lost the reception.” His hand stilled in the act of rubbing his neck and face dry. His hair had spiked into damp tufts where he had towelled the sleet away. “Was that really what you thought? That I’d hung up on you?”
She let out a breath. “I didn’t know what to think. You didn’t call back.”
Evan dropped the damp towel onto her coffee table. “You should have known I wouldn’t let you go a second time without a fight.” The lines of his face intensified with his feelings.
“Evan, I told you on the phone, I can’t—” She gasped as he took a step toward her.
“What can’t you do?”
“Evan, I can’t have children.”
“And have I ever asked you to?” He grasped her arms and compelled her to look him in the eyes. “Tali, just tell me the truth. Do you love me? My feelings for you have never altered. I love you. I want us to be together. You, me, and Polly.”
Nathalie swallowed hard. “I’ve always loved you. Polly is a wonderful little girl.” She hesitated. His hands gripped her, warm but firm, refusing to release her until he had his answer.
“But?” She saw hurt cloud his eyes.
“What if you want a brother or sister for Polly later on? You might regret being married to a woman who can’t give you a son or who can’t give your daughter a brother or sister.” Regret might eat into their relationship like acid, stripping it away until there was nothing left.
“I love you, Nathalie. No one gets married because of a guarantee that their partner is fertile! Our family will be complete with the three of us.”
“You don’t know that you won’t change your mind.” She longed to believe him, but she had seen and heard too many stories where the happy-ever-after part had failed to materialize. She’d given her heart to him before and believed it was safe.
“Sit down. There’s something I need to tell you.” He steered her across to the sofa and sat down beside her. His shoulders hunched as he leaned forward. “When Laurel told me she was pregnant, I had doubts about whether Polly was really mine.”
Nathalie gasped in surprise. Evan’s love for his little girl was so secure she couldn’t believe he’d ever doubted her paternity. “But she looks just like you. She has your eyes!”
“I realized quite quickly that Laurel wasn’t going to be ideal mother material. When Polly was born and I saw her lying in that plastic crib, so tiny and helpless…” He shook his head. “All the thoughts I’d had about getting a DNA test vanished. I held her in my arms, and she opened those big blue eyes.”
Nathalie folded her arms across her chest to protect herself from the shaft of pain in her heart. Why was he telling her this? She would never know the magic of holding her baby in her arms. “What happened?”
“I didn’t pursue a test. As time passed and Polly got ill, she needed me. She looks like me. Any doubts I had faded. Then, when I set the wheels in motion to divorce Laurel and gain custody of Polly, she announced that Polly wasn’t my daughter after all.”
Nathalie’s hand flew to her mouth. “That’s terrible!” How could anyone be so cruel?
Evan’s hand balled into a fist. “I felt as if my world imploded. I didn’t know what would happen to Polly, how the claim might affect her, or even if it were true. I was angry at myself.” His jaw clenched, and Nathalie knew it was a struggle for him to keep his emotions in check.
“You got Polly, though?”
“I insisted on a test. The result didn’t really matter in some ways, because she was mine in my heart, no matter what. I just didn’t want Laurel to have a hold over us. Fortunately, the results were conclusive.”
“I can’t imagine what you and Polly have gone through.” Nathalie ached at the thought of all Evan and his daughter had suffered.
“I love you, Tali. I’m never going to change my mind, no matter what the future might hold for us. When I thought I might lose Polly, I felt so empty, so incomplete. Without you in our lives, I’d have that same feeling.” He took her hands in his, the warmth of his fingers on hers somehow spreading to warm her very soul.
His lips brushed against hers, and her mouth parted in response, tasting the sweetness of all he had just offered her. She surrendered to the tenderness of his kiss as desire built within her.
“So, you haven’t given me an answer,” he murmured against her lips.
Nathalie broke away from his kiss, her pulse thudding in her ears. “I love you, Evan. You and Polly. I guess in some ways I’ve used my problems as a kind of shield. It’s been a reason not to get close to anyone, or for them to get close to me. Yet…I always wanted someone to be my hero. Does that make me sound pathetic?”
He caressed the side of her face with his hand. “You never needed anyone to be your hero, Tali. You’ve coped with your illness all this time, knowing your dream of a baby of your own wasn’t going to be possible. I’d say you were your own hero.” He kissed her tenderly on her forehead.
Nathalie raised her head to see his love for her shining in his eyes. “I love you.”
He kissed her again, making her skin tingle with his touch. Nathalie snuggled closer, revelling in the scent of his skin and the rhythmic beat of his heart. Safe and secure in his arms, with no more secrets between them, she knew she’d found her hero after all.
****
Two months later, Nathalie took her place next to Evan on the front row of chairs in the school hall.
“I hope she’s okay.” Evan whispered as he took her hand in his, the emerald of her engagement ring glinting under the light.
“She’ll be fine,” Nathalie reassured him. “She’s had some of her inhaler, and she looks beautiful.”
Evan shuffled on the hard, wooden chair. “She’s rehearsed this so many times…”
“Shush. It’s starting.”
The lights dimmed, and a small girl in a flowing pink dress and gold crown stepped onto the stage. Polly beamed at the audience and recited the lines she’d practised. Nathalie mouthed them with her, tears of pride in her eyes as
she watched her daughter perform in the Easter production. In less than a month’s time, Polly would have another starring role — as a bridesmaid, at Nathalie and Evan’s wedding.
About the Author
Nell Dixon is a Black Country author, married to the same man for over twenty-five years she has three daughters, a tank of tropical fish and a cactus called Spike. Winner of the RNA’s prestigious Romance Prize in 2007 and 2010, she writes warm-hearted contemporary romance for a number of publishers in the US and the UK.
Also by Nell Dixon
Chapter One
“Dangerous to know.”
Nathalie’s words about her elder brother, Jerome, resonated in Gemma’s mind.
“Strawberries taste better when they’re dipped in chocolate.” Jerome suggested and dangled one near her mouth.
Gemma licked her lips, a gesture that was purely automatic. The air was warm inside Nathalie’s sitting room and Gemma struggled to draw enough air into her lungs.
Why had she decided the best way to get over being dumped yet again was to boost her confidence by flirting with Jerome? The corners of his deep blue eyes crinkled, and she knew he found her naïve attempts at flirtation amusing.
Gemma leaned forward and took the fruit from his fingers with her teeth. She chewed and swallowed as Jerome’s pupils darkened in the soft light from a nearby lamp.
“You’re right. It makes all the difference.” Even to her own ears her voice sounded husky.
He smiled and her heart skipped a beat. “Well, there’s more if you want some.” His fingertips were coated in melted chocolate from the fountain that stood in the centre of the platter of fresh fruit.
His words held the unmistakable note of challenge. Gemma sucked in air. This was not a good idea. She was in too deep. She tried not to stare at his fingers or imagine the taste of his skin. Phew, she felt hot…
“Gemma, Tali says could you come and be in the photo she’s taking?”
Gemma blinked and tore her eyes away from Jerome. Polly, Nathalie’s little stepdaughter, stood waiting in her pink party dress.
“Of course, where is she?”
“She’s in the hall. She said to get you as well, Uncle Jerome.”
“Lead the way then, princess.” Jerome wiped his hands on a napkin and leaned forward to murmur, “Later,” in Gemma’s ear. His words fell soft and intimate on her hot face and her heart rate quickened.
Polly giggled as he ruffled her ponytail. Gemma rose quickly to her feet from where she’d been sitting opposite Jerome on the rose chintz-patterned couch. She followed Polly into the large square hallway, conscious of Jerome’s commanding presence close behind her.
Nathalie was busy arranging people on the broad oak balustrade staircase that swept into the center of the hall. Gemma thought how well her friend looked now that she’d recovered from the surgery she’d had only a few months before.
“Come on, you two! I want pictures of everyone.” Nathalie laughed as she directed Gemma into position on the stairs.
“And you, Jerome.” Nathalie lined her brother up next to Gemma near the back of the group.
Gemma’s senses flared onto red alert as he draped an arm around her shoulders for the picture.
“Okay, smile everyone!” Nathalie clicked off a shot and checked in her viewfinder. “That looks great.” People began to drift back towards the food and drink in the various rooms.
“Oh, let me get one of you two together.”
Gemma realized she and Jerome were alone on the stairs. His arm was still around her and the bare flesh at the top of her shoulder tingled as he ran his finger lightly over her skin.
“Okay.” Nathalie’s voice broke the spell and Gemma shivered as Jerome removed his arm.
“Are you cold?” He placed a gentle hand on the small of her back. Heat sizzled through the soft chiffon fabric of her dress.
“No, I’m fine. Someone must be walking on my grave.” She took a quick step away from him and rubbed the goose-pimpled flesh on the tops of her arms. Oh, she was way out of her depth - she must have been insane to think she could flirt with Jerome and not get burned.
“My sister told me you were a free agent again?”
She sucked in a breath and supposed that could be one way of putting it. It sounded better than the truth - that Carl, her boyfriend of the last year had dumped her in favour of a pretty blonde and a trip to Australia.
“Yes, I’m free, single and loving it.” She tilted her chin upwards in challenge.
“I always thought you were much too good for him.” Jerome smiled at her.
“Uncle Jerome, Daddy says he wants to show you something.” Polly reappeared with chocolate cake crumbs around her mouth.
“If you’ll excuse me for a minute?” Jerome’s dark blue eyes appeared to hold a deeper meaning.
“Of course.” Gemma hated the way her voice squeaked the words out as Jerome turned away hand-in-hand with Polly.
“Is everything okay?” Nathalie re-entered the hall from the kitchen.
“Fine, it’s a lovely party.”
“I’m glad you changed your mind and decided to come.” Nathalie gave her a warm smile.
“Me, too.” Gemma decided she was glad she’d come. It was definitely better to be here amongst friends than home alone feeling sorry for herself.
“Don’t take too much notice of Jerome. You know he’s a dreadful flirt.”
Heat flared at once in Gemma’s cheeks. “Oh, he wasn’t. I mean, we weren’t.”
Nathalie laughed. “Relax, he’s always liked you. I just meant don’t take any messing from him.”
“I feel much more cheerful now. I’m glad you talked me into coming.”
Nathalie tucked her arm through Gemma’s and patted her hand. “What else are friends for? It wouldn’t have been the same without my best friend.”
“So, do you have any more eligible bachelors hidden away at this party?” Gemma was well aware of Nathalie’s penchant for matchmaking.
Her friend grimaced. “I’m not sure Jerome is very eligible and the only other free agent here is Barnaby, my younger brother. He’s no fun at all to be with at the moment. I don’t know what’s gone on. I may have to do some sisterly digging.”
Gemma smiled to herself and felt a little sorry for Barnaby. Nathalie was a force to be reckoned with when she was on a mission.
“Oh, just look at that child! That must be her third piece of cake! She’ll be sick.” Nathalie dropped Gemma’s arm and darted off after Polly who had just taken a bite of a very large slice of cake.
Gemma laughed out as her friend pursued her stepdaughter into the kitchen. Since Nathalie had married Evan, she had settled happily into her new role as a mother. She and Polly were always together and shared an enviable bond.
A door opened off the hallway and Jerome reappeared. Immediately, she looked for an exit, mortified that he might think she had hung around by the stairs waiting for him.
* * * *
Jerome emerged from Evan’s study deep in thought. His brother-in-law had confirmed his own thoughts about the situation he was in. It had sounded as if he would have to take the warnings he’d received more seriously.
“Gemma’s still a bit raw about the break-up with her ex-boyfriend. You will be careful, won’t you, Jerome?” The sound of his sister’s voice pulled him from his reverie.
Nathalie leaned against the doorframe, her dark blue eyes fixed on his face. A whisper of aqua-coloured chiffon disappearing into the kitchen caught his eye. Gemma must have had second thoughts about their flirting game.
“It’s just a bit of fun, Tali. Gemma’s a grown-up girl.”
“Oh, when are you ever going to settle down? It’s always just a bit of fun to you.” Nathalie’s tone held a gentle reproof.
“That’s rich coming from you! You were busy extolling the virtues of the single life only a few months ago, until Evan came back.”
His sister’s eyes sparked at his remark. “Gemma’s my
friend as well as my business partner. I don’t want her feelings hurt.”
Jerome raked a hand through his hair. “I like Gemma, Tali.” He wasn’t about to tell his sister, but he’d admired Gemma for quite a while. Ever since he’d first met her at his sister’s bridal shop. She’d been unavailable back then and Jerome hadn’t been in the market for a serious relationship anyway.
Tonight, though, after his conversation with Evan, he needed something to distract him from his problems, and a little light flirtation with Gemma seemed perfect.
Something in his expression must have convinced Nathalie about his good intentions because her cheeks dimpled into a smile and the fire died from her face. “Okay. I’ll let you off.”
He bent his head a little and kissed her cheek. “I’ll be good.”
Nathalie laughed. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Jerome left his sister and walked back through into the sitting room and the first thing he saw was Gemma on the end of one of the sofas talking to his youngest brother. A twinge of something a little like jealousy stabbed him as he watched the two of them together.
Gemma laughed at something Barnaby said, touching the delicate gold dropper of her earring as she did so. Jerome’s fingers curled into unconscious fists at the sight of his brother chatting so intimately with her. As if she sensed his eyes on her, she turned to meet his gaze, her cheeks pinking under his scrutiny.
Barnaby followed Gemma’s gaze and lifted a lazy hand to acknowledge Jerome before murmuring something to Gemma and strolling away. Her cheeks turned pinker as Jerome crossed the room to join her.
“My family seem intent on protecting you from me.” He sat down next to her and stretched his arm along the back of the sofa. He liked being near her, smelling the delicate scent of freesia that she wore and touching her soft skin.
“Are you dangerous?” Her eyes were wide as she asked the question.
He felt, rather than heard, her gasp as he brushed her shoulder with his hand. Heat scorched into his fingertips from her cool flesh. “I don’t know. What do you think? Is my sister right? Do you need protecting?” He wasn’t sure quite why he liked teasing her so much. Except that something about her reactions told him she enjoyed their flirting as much as he did, even if she didn’t appear to be taking him seriously.
